


Jump Off a Cliff

by narcissablaxk



Category: Last Tango In Halifax
Genre: Canon Compliant?, F/F, Gillian spills her secrets, S2E5, Until it isn't, different ending, i guess?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-03
Updated: 2020-05-03
Packaged: 2021-03-02 00:42:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,691
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23976178
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/narcissablaxk/pseuds/narcissablaxk
Summary: "And if Gillian told you to jump off a cliff?"Caroline finds herself scoping out a wedding venue with Gillian, that leads to drinks, confessions, and understanding.
Relationships: Gillian Greenwood/Caroline McKenzie-Dawson
Comments: 5
Kudos: 49





	Jump Off a Cliff

**Author's Note:**

> Obviously, content warning for Gillian discussing Eddie and the abuse.

Caroline stood shoulder-to-shoulder with Gillian as Cheryl stepped up into the truck and slammed the door behind her. She waved animatedly, mouthing something at Caroline again that she could not and would not decipher. 

“Mmm,” she hummed, leaning even more against Gillian, while keeping her face impassive. “She’s annoying.” 

Gillian’s fake grin went almost sincere, and Caroline felt substantially mollified. It was confusing, standing in Gillian’s yard while Gillian’s son, granddaughter, houseguest (because wasn’t that what Ellie was?), and Gillian’s boyfriend piled into a truck with a woman who looked suspiciously cozy with said boyfriend, while they were left to their own devices. Was there some weird dynamic here that she wasn’t aware of? She glanced back at Gillian, who grimaced the moment the truck was out of sight, confirming her hypothesis. 

“Bloody York Races,” she muttered. “They’ve money to burn.” She was turning back to her farmhouse, viewing it with what Caroline knew to be critical eyes. She looked at it herself, the little house she grew increasingly fond of every time she visited. “He’s got homework, she’s got homework.” 

She huffed, the color high in her cheeks, and Caroline’s intuition told her that Ellie and Raff skipping out on homework was the least of her concerns. She decided to prod, gently. “I thought…weren’t you and Robbie…?” 

Gillian looked back at her, surprised, and, bless, not angry. “Oh, no, that went tits up months ago,” she said dismissively, in a tone that told Caroline that she didn’t want to talk about it. Good, she didn’t particularly want to talk about it either. It was hard for her to swallow, Gillian sleeping with John and then Robbie, who she claimed to hate only a matter of months ago. 

Even though Caroline claimed that she was only mildly charmed by Gillian, time had allowed her more instances of understanding, and while she hoped it would help her comprehend Gillian but unfortunately like her less, she only found that not only did she understand Gillian better, but she liked her even more. 

It was starting to be a problem. The idea of spending time with Gillian alone – when she had already successfully seduced at least three men in the time of Caroline being in her life, was daunting. What if Gillian turned those apparently powerful seduction techniques on her? It was impossible, Caroline knew, but even while she dreaded the possibility, she wanted to see what it was like. 

She chalked that up to her scientific curiosity and tried to leave that train of thought alone.

“Right, so Batman,” Gillian said, forcing cheeriness into her voice. “What’s the plan?” 

“Lunch,” Caroline said firmly. “Somewhere nice.” 

Gillian’s eyes met the ground, where she kicked her tattered boot. “To be honest…I’m a bit skint this week…” she said, ashamed. 

Caroline wanted to point out that anyone would be, taking care of a new baby, her son, and her son’s girlfriend along with a farm. It was nothing to be ashamed of, especially because Gillian was one of the hardest working people she’d ever met. Still, somehow she knew bringing this up would only embarrass her, leaving her taciturn and anxious for the entire day. So she didn’t say anything. Instead, she shrugged. 

“Well, I’m not,” she replied. “I’m loaded.” 

“I can’t have you paying for me,” Gillian muttered, her green eyes catching Caroline’s by accident. Caroline allowed herself a moment, just a moment, to get lost in them. 

“Yes, you can,” she commanded. “Go get your stuff.” 

Gillian flushed pink. “Do I need to get dressed up?” 

“Only if you want to,” Caroline said honestly. If she were being completely honest, she enjoyed seeing Gillian in her farm clothes. There was something capable in her stride when she wore clothes she worked the farm in, an unknown element to her that Caroline found annoyingly attractive. 

“Where are we going?” Gillian asked over her shoulder as she jogged into the house. 

“It’s a surprise.” 

“Well, whose car are we going in?” 

“I don’t care,” Caroline laughed and Gillian laughed with her, lightening the air between them until Caroline was sure she was going to float away.

***

Gillian expected Caroline to take her somewhere posh, but the little bed and breakfast they pulled up to exceeded her expectations. There was a quiet simplicity to the place that spoke of insane amounts of money. Immediately, she was uncomfortable and out of place here. She glanced over at Caroline, in black and white and as stately and stunning as ever. Her own floral dress was out of fashion and gauche in comparison. 

And then Caroline turned back to her and fixed her with a smile that took her breath away, and Gillian forgot all about the dress she was wearing, or how she’d never be able to afford this place in a million years, or how different she and Caroline were. It didn’t matter. 

“I came here with Kate, three months ago,” Caroline confided. “It was horrendous, it was when we fell out.” 

Gillian had not been privy to most of the information surrounding Caroline and Kate’s breakup. She didn’t want to know, but inside she was starving for the information. How heartbroken was Caroline, anyway? Was it her decision? Was it mutual? 

There was no rational reason for her to care this much, but still, she searched Caroline’s face for clues. 

“It struck me as being a nice place for a wedding.” 

Had Caroline been thinking of marrying Kate? Gillian wanted to ask, but she knew Caroline well enough to know when to hold a question for later. And it was there, in the set of her brow, the clues that she knew to look for. 

“I’m sorry you fell out,” she said instead, and Caroline’s gaze softened. “Tell me about Muriel and your mum. What’s that all about, then?” 

***

Caroline wasn’t sure how they’d gotten to this point. They had muddled through lunch, the story of Celia and Muriel’s distant spat a nice tool of conversation, and had wandered through the grounds, taking in every spectacular inch of the place, gushing to each other about how much their parents would love it here, and now they were sipping champagne on plush couches, looking at brochures as the sun started to fall in beautiful beams through the back windows, lighting Gillian in a way that was beyond flattering. It was starting to drive Caroline to distraction. 

Gillian sipped her champagne, leaning back on the cushions, her eyes half-lidded, taking in Caroline’s more rigid posture, looking through the brochures. Caroline was trying very hard not to look over at her – she could see already, how the light was brightening her eyes, highlighting the gold in her hair. 

To keep herself occupied, she pulled out her phone and dialed her mother. 

“Hello, love,” her mother’s voice was tense, and Caroline felt immediately amused, knowing she was having to have a meal with her sister. Perhaps it would do them both good. 

“Mum, this place we’re visiting is perfect. I think you’ll love it –” she glanced up and caught Gillian leaning forward to get her glass of champagne refilled, and the sure, almost feline movement kept her attention. Gillian heard her stop talking and met her gaze, the green eyes there laced with gold. “Uh, it, well, it depends on how far you want to push the boat out, but honestly, I think you’ll be charmed.” 

Gillian was grinning at her now, as if she knew why Caroline was stuttering, but that wasn’t possible, was it? Gillian couldn’t read her that well.

“Uh, but the point is, the only day they’ve got free this side of Christmas, and it’s a long way off, is Tuesday the 24th of December, so…” 

“But that’s Christmas Eve!” 

“I know it’s Christmas Eve. So we need to make a decision, and it’ll probably go, they’re very popular.” 

Gillian was poking her in the leg now, her fingernail sharp and insistent. Caroline turned her gaze to her, and Gillian was leaning toward her now, her eyes wide and amused. “What?” 

“I think they think we’re the ones getting married,” she said, jutting her chin toward the waitstaff who, now that she mentioned it, had been treating them the way they would an engaged couple. 

“No,” she breathed, suddenly both amused and worried about what in her behavior had clued these waitstaff into not only her sexuality, but how she might possibly feel about Gillian. 

Gillian giggled behind her hand, clearly enjoying the misunderstanding, and the mischief in her face only made her more attractive. Caroline relished in it for a moment before she realized her mother had been speaking.

“Can you email me some pictures, to Muriel’s address, so we can have a look?” 

“Just – just, hang on a second, Mum,” she stammered, still caught up in Gillian. “Why – why would they think that?” 

Gillian paused, her eyes finding a waiter as he passed by them, smiling surreptitiously at them both. “I think they remember you bringing Kate here, so now they think I’m just another one of your women.” She giggled again, behind her hand, but Caroline was still gazing at her, lost for a moment in the possibility. Wouldn’t it be nice, bringing Gillian here for a romantic weekend? 

Her mother’s voice squawked in her ear and shook her out of her dangerous thoughts. “Hello! Are you there? Caroline? 

“Hello? Sorry,” she said, her smile turning to laughter in the wake of Gillian’s amusement. 

“Can you email me some pictures?” 

“Yeah, yeah, I can,” Caroline said, between stifled giggles as Gillian continued to laugh openly. “I’ve got Muriel’s email on my phone.” 

“What are you laughing at?” 

She blanched, and then laughed even harder. Imagining her mother’s reaction to the waitstaff’s confusion would be both hilarious and annoying, but once she started laughing, Gillian laughed harder, and they were rapidly becoming the annoyingly happy couple in the bar while everyone else looked on. The idea was romantic and ridiculous at the same time. “Nothing, we’ve just had some champagne, that’s all.” 

Gillian, apparently suddenly finding this mistake appealing, leaned into it, pursing her lips at Caroline and twirling her hair. Caroline felt her pulse stutter at the half-lidded look Gillian was giving her, and muttered quickly “Don’t do that!” 

“Why not?” Gillian muttered? 

Because it’s sexy? Caroline couldn’t say that. “Because it’s frightening,” she said instead. 

Gillian rolled her eyes. “Oh, thanks. I’m going to finish with you if you’re not careful.” 

For a moment the words reminded Caroline of Kate, and the frivolity was gone, evaporated in a second, but then she caught Gillian’s gaze again, alight and full of life, and felt her melancholy slip away. “I’m going to send you pictures, Mum. Okay, okay, bye bye.” 

She hung up the phone and allowed the giggles to overtake her again, reveling in the sound of Gillian’s laugh, one she hadn’t heard nearly enough. 

***

The rest of the day continued like a dream. They sipped champagne while they looked at brochures. The woman in charge of booking the venue smiled at them warmly even when Gillian made a joke about her “ball and chain” with a jerk of her head toward Caroline. It was a new experience, sitting there not fearing what people thought of her because she was gay. It didn’t matter what this woman thought of her, because at the end of the day, it was all a big joke, wasn’t it? They weren’t actually together, but, as Caroline signed the check for the down payment, all of these people passed a test she didn’t know she’d been giving. 

It was easy to exist as a gay woman when people knew you were gay. Just because Celia and John had reacted the way they did didn’t mean the rest of the world would. It felt like a weight had been lifted from her shoulders, and for a moment, Caroline thought she would cry. But then she’d have to explain to Gillian why she was blubbering and she didn’t want to ruin the fun. 

So evening found them instead in the back of a cab, on their way to Gillian’s farm, Caroline’s eyes closed, head gently falling toward Gillian’s shoulder. The realization that she had left her phone behind at the hotel seemed so unimportant in light of the day that she found she didn’t really care. Who was going to call her, anyway? William was at school, Lawrence was at John’s, John could go…do one. 

She passed the cab driver sixty quid on her way out the door, surprised and a little touched when Gillian offered her a helping hand so she wouldn’t slip. They stumbled over the doorway together, and Caroline thought she caught Gillian eyeing her appreciatively, her gaze lingering on her when it normally wouldn’t.

And the next thing she knew, they were sitting side-by-side on the settee, eyes closed, voices hushed like there was someone else in the house when they knew there wouldn’t be. It was almost secretive, almost conspiratorial. 

“Why did you fall out?” Gillian asked into the comfortable silence, and the tension went taut again. “With Kate?” 

Caroline didn’t have the strength to think of a less embarrassing excuse. “I booked us two separate rooms for our romantic weekend.” 

She heard Gillian exhale, like she was about to laugh, and then nothing. She peeked one eye open and caught Gillian looking at her pensively. “You thought people were going to be weird about it?” she asked. 

“Everyone else had been,” she replied stiffly. It was a relief, seeing Gillian looking at her like she understood her motivations, a far cry from the cold way Kate had appraised her, had scolded her, had told her to grow up. “Why would these people be any different?” 

“I see that,” Gillian agreed quietly. “Did you explain that to her?” 

“I tried,” Caroline said helplessly. “She had already decided I had blown it by then. She spent the whole evening talking to her old friend from university. Greg.” 

“Greg,” Gillian repeated, almost spat, and it was touching, her protective instinct, over a man she’d never met. Caroline smiled weakly, eyes just barely open, watching her. 

“She made it very clear she was done with me,” Caroline sighed. “I’ve been consigned to a box labelled bad. Well, maybe not bad. Just inept, arrogant, repressed –” Gillian actually did laugh here, a disbelieving snort that drew Caroline up short for a moment, “old, waste of time.” 

“I didn’t know Kate had such a vested interest in being incorrect,” Gillian said blandly, smiling when Caroline turned to her, wider awake now that the statement had sunk in. 

“You’re being kind,” Caroline said, giving her an out, but Gillian didn’t take it. Instead, she shrugged noncommittally, leaving Caroline adrift in a sea of _did she mean that or not_ that she couldn’t make heads or tails of. 

“What about you and Robbie?” Caroline asked, trying to be a good step-sister, trying to distract herself from Gillian’s compliment and how it warmed her from the inside out. “Why did you fall out?” 

And then the night went to hell. 

It would have been a simple enough explanation – he found out she slept with John – but Gillian had taken it upon herself to share with Caroline a secret she’d told no one else. Because that’s what they did, Caroline realized. They told each other stuff they told no one else. And Caroline had to sit there and listen to Gillian explain how she’d murdered her husband, horrified and vaguely nauseated even while knowing Gillian had to have a good reason. She was impulsive, and reckless, but she wasn’t cold. 

***

“He used to knock me about,” Gillian muttered, almost to herself, and Caroline felt the air around them go still. “All the time.” 

Caroline’s hand landed on Gillian’s leg, shocked, supportive, silent. Gillian caught it with her own and pressed on. 

“He knocked out three of my teeth in the back,” she said shakily. “He was careful not to do it in the front where people could see.” She glanced back at Caroline, watching her closely in the soft light of the sitting room, eyes wide. “One time, he put out a cigarette on my neck.” She lifted the hair so Caroline could see, could take in the proof, but Caroline quickly smoothed her hair back down, grimacing. 

It was a hard thing for a lot of people to accept, Gillian knew. They didn’t like being confronted with the ugliness of reality. She learned that from her father. 

“And there were…other humiliations,” she caught Caroline’s gaze again, saw how she went even paler, and knew she understood. Caroline would always understand her.

“I’ve shed blood in every room of this house,” she said, and it was barely a whisper, but it pushed tears down Caroline’s cheeks, down to her chin. Gillian reached up and wiped one away. It was the least she could do for inflicting all of this on her. 

“Your dad –”

Gillian shrugged. “He’s not stupid. He knew something wasn’t right. But…you know, he doesn’t like to make a fuss.” 

“Make a fuss?” Caroline repeated, and more tears flowed, unnoticed. “You could have died.” 

“If I hadn’t done it to him, he would have done it to me,” Gillian said, almost robotically, as she always imagined she would one day have to say to police. She sniffed, trying to subtly wipe her eyes without Caroline noticing, as if she hadn’t been producing a steady stream of tears since the story started. 

Caroline watched her do it, watched her eyes dart around the room, trying to find something to settle on, and then tugged impatiently on her hand. Gillian leaned into her, letting Caroline hold her the way she always wanted Robbie to, hell, the way she wanted anyone to hold her. Caroline stroked her hair, whispering assurances into her skin. 

“No one is ever going to treat you like that again,” she whispered. “No one. I’ll make sure of it.” 

Gillian wanted to make a joke about how Caroline couldn’t control the world, but held her tongue. For tonight, she wanted to believe her.

***

Caroline woke to Gillian setting a cup of tea down on the table in front of her. She remembered slipping into a fitful sleep, holding Gillian tightly to her, as if to protect her from the stories she’d told. It didn’t matter what Gillian thought of their position, if she suspected that Caroline’s feelings were somehow more than sisterly. Gillian held onto her just as fiercely, and drifted off with her, a soft “thank you Caroline” dying on her lips as sleep took her. 

Gillian was looking down at her fondly, the light framing her dark hair just so in the light. Caroline was exhausted, her head pounding a dull beat inside her skull, but she couldn’t bring herself to hide under the blanket when she could be looking at Gillian, lit like an angel in the early light of dawn. 

It didn’t matter what Gillian had done, she decided suddenly. She certainly wasn’t going to tell anyone, and from where she was standing, Gillian did what she had to do. 

“How are we feeling?” Gillian asked, her mouth set in that nervous way Caroline had come to recognize. 

“Hungover,” Caroline admitted, holding out her hand for the cup of tea. Gillian passed it over to her, her fingers covering Caroline’s carefully to make sure she didn’t drop it. “But otherwise fine.” 

Gillian’s mouth relaxed into a tentative smile, correctly interpreting Caroline’s hint that she was going to keep her secret. Something about the night before had brought them to a new ground, where they were confidantes, friends, and yet, still something more than that. Caroline imagined that was the newfound trust they both had in each other, the understanding. No one else knew what they knew about each other. There was something intoxicating about it, even when the secrets were dark. 

Gillian looked down at the floor, almost bashful, though if that was leftover shame from her confession the night before, Caroline couldn’t tell.

“Hey, I know that you were kind of…bummed about Kate last night,” Gillian began, studiously turning away from Caroline to dust the fireplace. 

“Okay…” 

Gillian paused in her fake dusting (she wasn’t even holding anything to dust with) and turned back to Caroline. “Do you want to be my date to Celia and Alan’s wedding?” 

Caroline gaped. “Your date?” 

Gillian shrugged, and Caroline squinted at the nonchalant movement. What kind of a date was she talking? A friend date? A sisterly date? A date date? It was impossible to tell, and Gillian seemed unwilling to clarify. 

“I – well…”

Gillian took the seat beside her again. “I want you to come to the wedding with me,” she said firmly, definitively. 

“Okay,” Caroline said tentatively. 

“So you’ll be my date?” 

What the bloody hell was she getting at? Caroline huffed impatiently, and Gillian grinned, seeing their return to banter quickly approaching. The dark conversation of the night before was left behind in the wake of this new statement that Caroline had to puzzle out.

“Are you going to outline my duties as your date?” Caroline asked, as tactfully as possible. “Or am I supposed to divine them in your pretty eyes?” 

Gillian bit her lip, and grinned. “I can outline them for you, Princess, if you need me to.” 

Yes, yes, Caroline did need her to. “Go on.” 

“Okay, well, you’ll be expected to pick me up in your fancy car, keep me entertained while everyone else gets pissed, maybe even get pissed with me, dance with me, and then you can take me up to our one single hotel room –”

Caroline rolled her eyes. 

“Or we can get two, whichever you prefer,” Gillian finished proudly.

Caroline let her annoyance melt into a laugh, and Gillian joined her. For a happy, blissful moment, Caroline thought she was going to lean in for a kiss, and then Gillian tutted disapprovingly. 

“Come on now, head teacher, I only kiss after the first date.”


End file.
